


command me to be well

by ourdarkspirits



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3941863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourdarkspirits/pseuds/ourdarkspirits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt has extraordinary senses and he tries really hard to respect Claire's boundaries.  Sometimes the universe has other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	command me to be well

The first time Matt sees Claire after she tells him she’ll always be there to patch him up is after he takes down Fisk.  The new outfit protects him from a lot, but Fisk did beat him over the head multiple times.  He probably did enough damage that Matt knows he should get some help.  He shows up on Claire’s fire escape after a quick call to make sure she hasn’t left yet.  He would have left her alone but he’s pretty sure the dizziness he’s feeling is a sign of concussion.

Claire gives him a long once over and lets him in.  He looks banged up but he’s come to her for help looking a lot worse.  

“I see you took my advice about the body armor,” she observes.

“Yeah.  Well, near-death experiences are pretty convincing,” he pauses. “And I found a guy who can make armor light.”

“Uh-huh,” Claire nods even though he can’t see it.  “The horns are a little much.”

He gives her a tentative smile and nods reaching up to touch the horns.  “I am the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”

She smiles and guides him to her couch.  She knows Matt doesn’t need her help, can move around easily in her home using his enhanced senses.  She’s not helping him so much as offering a wordless invitation to a man who can’t see her.

He takes off his cowl after he collapses on Claire’s sofa, letting exhaustion overtake him.  Claire gets her kit and sits down to get a closer look at the bruising and lacerations he had revealed when he took off the cowl.  

Given the nature of his injuries, Claire decides to check for concussion before patching him up.  She shines a light he can’t see into his eyes checking for ragged edges on his pupils.  

She puts the light down and tells him, “I’m pretty sure you have a concussion.”

Matt nods like the information doesn’t surprise him.  Claire thinks it probably doesn’t given he seems able to hear broken bones.  Shaking her head slightly at him she gets to work on the cuts, which are relatively minor.  

After a moment Claire notices him leaning into her touch and closing his eyes.  She doesn’t want him falling asleep, not when she doesn’t know how bad his concussion is, so she starts talking.  

“You want to talk about what happened?”

He starts and she knows he’s been drifting.  “Not really.”

“Come on, you took down Fisk.  Tell me about it,” Claire urges him.  “Talk to me about something, Matt.  I don’t know how bad your concussion is and I don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

“Ok,” Matt concedes. He talks to her as she patches him up.  He mostly avoids the night’s activities, choosing instead to focus on lighter things.  After everything he went through to put Fisk away as a lawyer and as a vigilante, he could use a little light.  

Claire listens only occasionally asking a question here and there, making sure he doesn’t drift again.  It’s hardly necessary.  Once Matt is focused, he can keep himself present without her help.  It probably has something to do with the meditation.

When she’s finished she stands up to put her things away.  “OK, Matt, you’re all patched up.”

He stands up to go but she stops him.  “I want you to stay here tonight.”

“Claire,” Matt starts, but Claire doesn’t let him finish.

“I told you, you have a concussion, and I don’t know how bad it is,” Claire’s voice brooks no argument, but Matt argues anyway.

“I can take care of myself, Claire,” Matt says, avoiding saying he’s respecting her decision to get out, avoiding saying they both need space and time.

“Not if you slip into a coma, you can’t,” Claire argues. “I want you here so I can make sure that doesn’t happen, now sit back down.”

Matt reluctantly sits down and Claire leaves him to find some bedding to make the couch a little more comfortable.  When she returns she finds him taking off his shoes.  She figures he would already have them off if the change in height wasn’t making his head spin.  She gets to him just as he’s twisting his body to leverage his legs onto the couch.

“Pillow and blankets,” Claire says holding the objects out to him.  Matt takes them with a murmured ‘thank you’ and sets about getting comfortable.

“I’m going to stay and wake you every few hours,” Claire informs him.  

Matt gives a slight nod and burrows into the couch finally letting himself drift off into sleep.  Claire’s shift was light that day and she’ll start later the next day, so she can handle this.  It’s no worse than a double shift at the hospital, maybe better because she doesn’t have to do anything, just make sure Matt wakes up periodically.  

* * *

 

She wakes Matt up early the next morning, assuming correctly that he has to go back to his day job.  He still looks worse for wear but he’s up and moving and walking out the door.  The cowl is off so he’ll only look a little eccentric and not as noticeable as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt goes back to his apartment to shower and change before going into the office.  When he gets the office, still a little off from his interrupted sleep and the lingering concussion, Karen and Foggy are outside the building.  

Foggy is putting up the sign and everything feels . . . right.  Wilson Fisk has been arrested, he and Foggy are finding a way forward, and they finally have their own law firm with a sign.  

Foggy makes a jab at the horns on his cowl and he smiles a little because he has his best friend, and the jab is familiar and maybe a little warranted, but he’ll keep the horns.  

Maybe it’s because he’s so happy and exhausted that he makes the comment about avocados, that joke from school, the one he thought he’d lost when Foggy had found out.    Karen doesn’t get it.  One of them will explain it to her later.  For now, they go inside and start practicing law, feeling a little more hopeful, a little more positive.  

* * *

 

It’s a long time until he sees Claire again and this time she’s calling him and it all feels horrifyingly familiar.  He’s been careful and she spent some time away, but he apparently wasn’t careful enough.  He gets a call and all he can hear is her being taken somewhere.  He tracks her down and when he finds her he makes sure she’s safe, that he can get her out of there.  After that’s done he holds her just like before and does his best to comfort her.

She appears to be unhurt, just shaken.  Like last time, and it’s still a surprise to see Claire, no-nonsense Claire, so shaken but he doesn’t blame her.  

This is why he didn’t stop her from walking away he reminds himself.  She’s too close to him and the underworld in Hell’s Kitchen knows it.  Still she takes care of him.  She withdrew, redefined their boundaries and he accepted it, but he can still go to her when he’s injured.  

“Let’s get you home,” Matt says, calm and comforting, as he pulls away from Claire slightly.

At his tone she clings to him a little closer and it surprises him.

“Claire?” his tone is curious.  The lines she’d drawn seem to be forgotten after the trauma of being held hostage again.   

“I don’t really feel like going home,” Claire mutters.  

He lets his hands drop to Claire’s and offers without thinking, “Come back to my place, then.”

He can feel her stiffen and then, “Are you sure?”

He knows what she’s thinking about.  Now that the invitation is out there he’s thinking about it too, the boundaries she set on their relationship.

“I know.  You’re here for me to patch me up.  But you just said you don’t feel like going home,” Matt assures her.  “I just thought you might feel safer at my place.”

She’s silent for a long moment, her body still pressed close to his and he can feel her heartbeat racing.  

“Ok,” she says finally.

“Ok,” Matt agrees and he guides Claire out of the warehouse and back to his apartment.  

They walk in silence.  Claire’s heartbeat is slowing down and she puts more distance between them.  When they get to his door he opens the door for her and follows her into his apartment.

“You can take the bed,” Matt says gesturing in the general direction of his bed.  After a moment he adds, “I’ll just get some blankets first.”

It’s a little awkward as they move around each other, Matt gathering bedding for the couch.  Claire staying out of his way until he’s settled.  She appreciates that he’s offered to let her stay the night, but the conversations from before still weigh on her mind and are beginning to outweigh the fears from before.  It’s not enough to make her want to leave.  Not quite.

* * *

 

Lying in his bed, Claire can’t close her eyes without seeing the interior of a warehouse, can’t shut out the voices of the men who had kidnapped her.  She doesn’t know how long she tries to get to sleep before she finally gives up.  She gets out of Matt’s bed and pads over to the doorway into the living room.  

She leans against the frame for a moment to steel herself, her arms crossed protectively around her middle before she calls quietly, “Matt?”

He stirs, and frankly she can’t be surprised that he’s heard her or that he sleeps light enough to register her voice calling his name, but she still is a little when he moves and she sees his turn towards her in the light of the billboard.  

“Claire,” he asks, his tone curious.

She almost tells him not to worry about it, to go back to sleep, but then she sees the warehouse again, and in an almost-whisper she tells him, “I can’t get to sleep.  Everytime I close my eyes I see the warehouse again, hear their voices.”

Matt gets up and walks over to her.  “Would it help if I stayed with you?”

Claire nods before she catches herself.  “Yes,” she says and it’s barely a whisper, but he hears her anyway.

Matt catches her elbow much like he does with people who aren’t aware of her extraordinary senses, like he does when she’s patching him up, and walks with her into his bedroom.  The touch is comforting and as much as she wants to maintain a strictly nurse/patient relationship, the comfort of his hand on her elbow tells her that having him close means she’ll be able to sleep.  Everything about Matt tells her to stay away, not to get involved, but there’s something about him that makes him feel safe and that seems to outweigh all her common sense.  

She crawls back into his bed and Matt follows her.  His weight on the bed is a comfort and she gravitates toward him.  When they are both finally settled there are a scant few inches between them and she can tell that Matt is doing his best to keep it that way.  Even still, she soon finds herself drifting to sleep.

Matt can tell when she falls asleep, her breathing evening and the tension leaving her body.  He doesn’t intend to sleep.  He doesn’t want to risk getting too close to her, not when it would be so easy, when she seems to so desperately want him near.  Not when getting close to her would make it hurt so much more when she redrew their boundaries again.  

He falls asleep anyway.  When he wakes up sometime later, it’s to the weight of Claire in his arms and her head pillowed on his chest.  He’s too selfish to wake her up, and, he adds to himself, she needs the sleep, something she had been unable to do before Matt had joined her in bed.  

She stretches and presses her face into his chest and he takes a moment to allow himself to feel.  The slight increase of pressure of her hand on his chest.  The way her body moves closer to his, eliminating any space that was left between him.  The glide of her bare legs against his and the scrape of her toes against his calf.  The fabric catching and gliding between him.  

It's longer than a moment as Matt's senses overwhelm him.  Not only the feel of her body pressed against his but also the way her smell surrounds him.  

Claire comes fully awake and stiffens in a moment of panic when she realizes how close she is to Matt.  After a moment she relaxes and let's herself enjoy this. It will complicate things again, she knows, but she's not sure things were ever uncomplicated.

"Claire," Matt murmurs, uncertainty lacing his voice.

Claire's sure he's felt each movement and minute indicator of her thoughts and emotions but she's not sure she has a good response for him so Claire reaches up to kiss him instead.  She can feel Matt's hesitation but before she can pull away and apologize he's tangling his hand in her hair and holding her closer as he returns her kiss with enthusiasm.

Matt allows himself to stop thinking.  Instead he listens to the sound of her heart pounding, the little moan that leaves her when he rolls so that Claire is under him.  

He pulls away breathing heavily and Claire's head falls back and he lowers his lips to her throat feels the flutter of her pulse at his lips, tastes the salt and the dust from the warehouse on her skin.  He loses himself in sensation, allows himself to chase her moans and whimpers, the jumps in her heart rate.

She writhes beneath him as he explores her body with his mouth and hands.  He pulls the shirt off her body and then presses his lips to the valley between her breasts and feels the vibrations of her impatient groan.  He moves to catch a nipple in her mouth, tasting and sucking.  Claire writhes beneath him and groans at the brush of her body against his.

"Matt, please," Claire groans, frustration lacing her voice.

Matt presses his face into her skin and grins before moving down her body continuing his exploration with his mouth.

When he gets to Claire's hips he pulls off her sweatpants and underwear and he is assaulted by the smell of her arousal.

"Oh, Claire," Matt moans, her name on his lips like penance.

He lowers his face between Claire's legs and the smell is nothing like her taste.  At the first touch of his lips to skin Claire arches up against his mouth and he slides a hand over her hip to hold her in place.  He lets his tongue slide through folds up to her clit enjoying the slick feel of her skin on his tongue, the taste of her arousal, the incoherent sounds of her pleasure.  Claire is close and he circles his tongue around her clit while slipping two fingers inside of her.  He feels her muscles flutter and it's not long before she's shuddering and falling apart.

Matt climbs up her body and pulls Claire close.  She reaches up to kiss him and it's home.  It's warm and gentle and full of promise.

He takes a shuddering breath when he feels Claire's fingers tracing the skin under the hem of his t-shirt.  He kisses her harder when he feels her hands drag up his sides taking his shirt with her.  He only breaks the kiss to let her pull the shirt over his head.

She pushes against him and he rolls off her.  Claire follows and straddles his waist.  

She drags her hands down his chest and says, "My turn."

Her names is dragged from his throat as she presses her lips to his chest and begins the path down his body.  His breathing is ragged and his heart is pounding in anticipation. His clothes haven't felt like sandpaper since he was young but now with all his senses overwhelmed by Claire they're sandpaper.  He wants to feel the smooth press of her skin against him.  As if she can tell, Claire pulls off his sweatpants and boxers and it's pure relief.

When they’re off she resettles herself at his waist and asks, “Condom?”

Matt lets his arm fall out to the side, gesturing at the bedside table.  “In the drawer.”

Claire reaches across the bed, letting her leg drape over Matt’s body, holding him in place as she pulls the drawer open and finds an unopened pack of condoms.

Matt must know what she’s about to ask because he says, “Foggy.”

“Foggy?” Claire inquires.  She remembers the man, remembers his voice on the burner telling her Matt was dying.

“He thought I needed condoms,” Matt clarifies and Claire thinks it’s the only response she’s going to get.  She doesn’t mind though.  She has more pressing matters at hand.  

After she tears into the box she settles on top of Matt’s thighs and rips open the foil package.  She rolls the condom down the length of his cock and then hovers, on the brink of sinking onto him watching him, committing to memory every last detail of Matt laid out below her.

He groans when she finally sinks down onto him, letting him fill her.  It’s good.  It’s so good, and she pauses, adjusting, savoring.  

She starts off a slow rhythm and his hands come up, still exploring.  She imagines he’s committing her to memory, sure they’ll never have this again.  She watches him closely, watches as he comes closer to the edge.

When he’s close, Claire tells him, “Touch me.”

He lets his hands fall down between her legs, his thumb effortless finding her clit and it’s enough to bring her to the edge, his easy confidence combined with his touch.  Her pace picks up and she’s shuddering around him and he follows with a shout just after.

She collapses on top of him, and Matt holds her as they both come down.  He cleans them both up and then settles into bed again beside her.

Claire doesn't know what this means for them but she's sure it's going to hurt.  She had pulled away because she wouldn't allow herself to fall in love with a man who seemed hellbent on getting himself killed, but it wasn't working.  For now Claire will lie in Matt's arms and drift back to sleep.  Figuring out this thing she has with Matt can wait a little longer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time writing smut and it kind of got away from me. Still not sure it's good, but here it is.


End file.
